


Everwinter Collection

by ValleyNerd



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-08-21
Updated: 2012-08-22
Packaged: 2017-11-12 15:16:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/492621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ValleyNerd/pseuds/ValleyNerd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of short stories (some of them connected, some not) from the Everwinter D&D game.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Restraint

Scout appeared at the ruins of Everwinter with Ari, but it was obvious the rogue knew little about her. Even still, while everyone was sitting by the fireplace, she met his eye when he stood up. She raised an eyebrow, a question, and rolled her eyes at his answering shrug. She gestured him away. It was probably the most awkward nonverbal conversation he’d ever had.

Charlie recognized when Ari was sulking. This much, Scout probably recognized as well. The white-haired woman hunched in the other room, at his kitchen table, tinkering with random devices they’d found on their way in.

“Go away, Charlie,” she said before he’d finished his approach. “I don’t want to talk to anyone right now.”

Charlie glanced at the ground, briefly pouting, crossing his arms and leaning his hip on the table. Ari flicked an angry glare his way, then studiously ignored him and continued about her work.

Before, Ari might have continued to rant at him until he went away. He wasn’t sure if he missed the adolescent version of her or not. She used to do nothing but boss him around, and he let her walk all over him. He half-expected the same routine upon their reunion, but it was like she was afraid to talk to him at all. She’d barely spoken to him, even though he could see in her eyes that there were volumes she wanted to say. The Ari he knew before was haughty, arrogant, pushy, and brilliant.

Looking at the notes she’d made about the ancient devices, he guessed she’d only become more brilliant. And her handwriting was absolutely  _compact_. Everything about the grown-up Ari screamed restraint. She used to wear sleeveless shirts, because they didn’t get in the way of her work. She used to wear short pants that ended at her calves – she was never cold, after all. Recently, he hadn’t seen her in anything less than a high-neck shirt, long sleeves, long pants, and gloves. Somehow, the gloves irritated him more than anything else. He could have understood if they were padded gloves, or leather, or if they were fingerless so as to not interfere with her work. But she wore flimsy linen things, either in starched white or complete black; the kind the fourteen year old Ari would have rolled her eyes at as “unnecessary frills.”

Her ridiculously modest clothes weren’t about keeping warm. They were about restraint. And somehow, that pissed him off enough to comment.

“What’s with the gloves?” he asked. It came out a little more gruff than he’d meant. He flinched; he was sure to catch the brunt end of her anger now.

She surprised him. She froze, pausing in her note-taking for a moment. He’d never seen her react like that before – _restrained._ “They’re gloves, Charlie.”

“But why are you wearing them?” he persisted.

“What do you want me to say?” Her tone was harsh. “I like gloves, so I wear them.”

“You used to hate gloves.”

“People change,” she snapped.

He softened his voice. “What else about you has changed?” he wondered aloud. He reached for her hand, just to hold it, but she jerked away from him. In addition, she moved around the corner of the table, taking her notes with her. Beneath her bangs, her expression twisted in fear. “Ari…” he closed the distance between them. “What’s wrong?”

“Just don’t touch me, okay?!” she insisted. “I mean it!” She turned her back to him. He hesitated a moment, then put his hand on her shoulder. She spun around and slapped it away, silver eyes glistening with unshed tears. “ _Don’t. Touch me._ ” She hissed.

Not allowing himself to think, Charlie recovered, wrapped one arm around her waist, his other hand at the back of her neck, and pressed his lips to hers. In shock, her spine went rigid. Then for a second, a beautiful, heavenly second, she kissed him back.  _She kissed him back_. Just as suddenly, she pulled away and tried to struggle out of his grip. She pushed at his chest with her left hand, her right arm behind her back.

“Let me go,” she demanded, voice wavering. She couldn’t look him in the eye, so she glared at his chest.

“No,” he said quietly. “Ari…” His heart thundered in his ears, and she still tried to twist away from him. “You were always so,  _so_  smart, but I don’t think you ever had the first clue about how much I cared for you. Or how much I still care.”

“Don’t,” she begged in a whisper. “Please, Charlie, don’t.”

“Don’t what,” he countered. “Don’t care for you? Don’t worry about you?” He gulped compulsively. “Don’t love you?”

“Yes,” she half-sobbed, pushing harder away, this time with both hands on top of each other. “Don’t.”

“Ari,” his voice broke, her name a plead. He covered her hands with one of his own.

Both of them froze.

Ari flung herself away from him, breaking his grip. She stumbled back, knocking over a chair and spilling her notes onto the floor when she tried to grab the table for balance.

“Miss Ari?” came Hal’s voice.

“We’re _fine_ ,” Ari shouted at the construct. Hal made a voice like he didn’t believe her, but he didn’t come into the kitchen.

Silence stretched between the two of them as she gathered her notes up again. After a moment, he crouched next to her and took her hand. She clenched her jaw, but didn’t pull away again. She let him remove the black linen glove without protest.

The modest clothing and the gloves suddenly made sense. He saw how Ari had managed to fool everyone for so long.  The craftsmanship was exquisite, every detail tended to, right down to the fingernails, but there was no denying it was anything but metal.

When Charlie was barely fourteen years old, he’d turned over his life to Destiny in order to protect this girl. He’d given his entire adult life in order to do so, and thought he’d forfeited any future he might have shared with her. It was more important that Ari live, rather than he live beside her. He endured so much for her sake. He starved. He was mortally wounded. He broke bones and had his own bones broken. He killed. For Ari. Recently the only thing he ran on was anger, rage, and the unshakeable desire to _protect Ari_. When he’d heard she was dead, the bottom just about fell out of his world. Now, faced with the means that she kept living, his _failure_ was almost too much.

She always had a knack for turning and looking at him just when he didn’t want her to. As he was taking a bite of meat. As his hat fell off. As his pendant flew free of his shirt. As he was struck down. As he was beaten. As he was weak. As he snapped bones. As he was strong. As he killed. Right as he would have given anything to have her look anywhere else.

She had never, ever, even once turned away from him. She had always faced, and accepted without a second thought, everything that he was and everything that he wasn’t. She never flinched away from him, even when he was at his worst.

She turned away now. All these demons she faced down with unchanging arrogance and bossiness, and she couldn’t even face herself. And there was always a trick to dealing with Ari. Apparently a trick he never learned.

Ari snatched her glove away from him, then launched to her feet and stormed away. He called uselessly after her… but maybe it was for the best. There was a knock on the door, and he knew exactly who it would be.


	2. Aspect of Lies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scout contemplates the lies she lives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place after Falling for You (http://zenkal.livejournal.com/4416.html)

Ari and Alexis weren’t the only ones spying that night. Scout hadn’t intended to eavesdrop, but old habits were hard to break. Being in the mood for neither facing the fair-haired women, or returning to the common room just yet, she calmly became one with the shadows, intent on waiting for the women to pass.

It wasn’t her best idea.

“Why should you care what others think, with their petty worries and concerns?” Alexis asked. “I love Alex because he is kind, always thinking of others, in a world where everyone thinks only about themselves. Good men are hard to find. Great men, impossible. They’re more precious than Tynidium.”

Scout found herself inwardly agreeing. Alex was a rare, altruistic gem. “And?” Ari challenged. She could hear the defense in Ari’s voice, though apparently Alexis couldn’t.

“’And’ is all you have to say?” Alexis forced out calmly, “You’re just like the other worthless, slack-jawed troglodytes.” Scout rolled her eyes, already knowing how Ari would react, should Alexis let her. “Alex is my brother. Not only that, he’s my twin. The most honest, kind, and caring man I’ve found in three worlds is simply unobtainable because I was unlucky enough to be born right next to him.”

The air suddenly seemed thicker, making it hard for Scout to breathe. She’d never heard so much emotion in the elf’s voice. This self-centered, selfish, brutal elf woman was truly, unconditionally, irrevocably, and sincerely in love with her twin brother. Scout barely paid attention to the rest of the conversation, still reeling from Alexis’s admission.

How many times had she tried to leave? She tried to leave when she died, revealing her greatest, her only secret. She tried to leave when she thought she could bear Alexis no longer. She tried to leave when Alex started his lovesick search. She tried to leave when he got too close to learning the truth. Every time she left, she found herself thrown right back into the twins’ path. Right into Alex. This time, she had intended to stay gone. She intended to remake herself for the last time. She intended to do good on her own. She intended many things.

And then “Property of Alexis. If found…” ruined everything.

The sound of impact and crumbling rock brought her out of her misty thoughts and launched her into now. She sharply looked around the corner, finding Ari precariously balanced on the edge of the battlement, held up only by Alexis’s hand. A heartbeat of silence, then the elf spoke.

“Fate’s a funny thing,” she murmured. “You’re welcome, Ari.” Then she let go. Ari toppled over the edge of the wall with a short scream. Scout knew she couldn’t react in time, expected a crash, but heard only a man getting winded.

Her heart leapt into her throat at Alex’s good-natured laugh. “It’s raining pretty girls!” he exclaimed, amusement thickening his accent. “Charlie, by the gods of your world, I love this place.”

Scout saw Alexis’s posture change. Call Ari a pretty girl, would he? Of course, Alexis couldn’t resist being a pretty girl. She took two steps and jumped right off the edge, landing on top of Alex and sending both men into uproarious laughter.

By the gods and the zanith and All Father, Scout couldn’t think of a single thing she wouldn’t give in order to jump right after them. She found her feet moving, without thinking. She peered down at the sprawling group, three out of four enjoying themselves. Ari sputtered and fumed and flailed, trying to detangle herself from Charlie and failing. Alex was content to lie on his back and laugh his pretty head off, Alexis seated regally on his stomach.

Pretty girls indeed, Ari with her sharp edges and attitude, Alexis with her flashiness and lack of pretense. Scout quickly retreated out of sight. She was a fool to think she could ever be one of them. She pulled the hood of her cloak over her head, hiding her face as she stole away into the artificial night.

She didn’t know how far she walked, or for how long. She only knew she had to be as far away as possible before… before…

By the time her vision started to blur with tears, she found herself beside a large, manmade pool. The water was reflective, though the steam from the fountain indicated it was anything but calm, heat currents keeping the water moving. For just a moment, alone, in the curtain of steam, she could let herself be herself. Surely she was allowed. Just for a moment.

She watched her fingers lengthen and turn grey, felt her clothes become ill-fitted as her entire body slimmed. She became, as she called it, faceless. Shivering, she pushed off her hood and stepped up to the pool of hot water to examine her reflection.

Milky white eyes looked back at her from a dull, grey face beneath dull, grey hair. Her muted features were crisscrossed with scars, flecked with burns, darkened by weary bruises around her eyes. The terrifying thing, underneath all the wounds, was that she didn’t even recognize her true face any more. Try as she might, she couldn’t even remember her true name. She’d reinvented herself so many times, and tried so hard to believe each time was the last, that she’d completely lost herself.

Scout, Pella, Xi, Jin, Lan, Fai, whoever she even was any more… she shouted angrily, wordlessly to the starless ceiling before falling silent once again and letting all the tears free. While she cried, she watched her reflection and remade her face again, wearing Scout, taking extra care to hide all of her scars. She’d have to check herself again in full light, but for now… for now, Scout could bear a few of Jin’s scars. A few of Pella’s burns. Some of Fai’s bruises.

All she’d ever wanted was for someone to see beyond the faces she wore. For someone to prefer her faceless. For someone to love her scars. After a time, she wanted Alex to be that someone. Alexis said she was cursed for being Alex’s twin, but the Faceless was cursed as well.

Because Alex deserved better than a living, breathing, walking lie.


	3. Difference

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ari explains the differences between her and Charlie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place after/during Aspect of Lies.

Ari understood the machinations and inner workings of many things, but emotions always intellectually escaped her. She was always at odds with her feelings – she should be able to _decide_ how she felt, not be at the mercy of her body’s chemicals. Her mind shouldn’t fixate and dwell on things, yet it did. She shouldn’t become irrationally overcome with anger, yet she did. She shouldn’t mindlessly flee from things, yet she did.

Of all of Alexis’s ranting, one line spun through her head like a gyroscope. “They’re more precious than Tynidium.”

She could have laughed and she could have cried, and Alexis had _no idea_. She had no hope of understanding that Ari could quantify her remaining lifespan based on a few grains of Tynidium. She couldn’t understand that literally, Tynidium was Ari’s life. And Alexis called both men more precious. It stung, badly. Because it was true.

While Alex and Charlie laughed, while Alexis grinned at her brother, Ari sputtered and fumed and tried to escape from Charlie’s grasp. The more she tried, the harder Charlie held on. He let her try for a few moments before effortlessly rising to his feet, holding her aloft in his arms. Ari felt as if her face had exploded, she was blushing so hard. It was physically _impossible_ for Charlie not to notice what had changed about her body. In her mind, she was screaming “No, no, no!” so loudly she didn’t catch what Charlie and Alex said before Charlie started walking.

Resigned that she couldn’t escape, Ari hid her burning face in her hands. She didn’t know where they went, only that Charlie somehow opened a door, climbed a flight of stairs, and opened another door while carrying her. He set her down on something soft, then moved away. Still covering her face, she heard a rustling of cloth, then gentle hands on her wrists.

“Ari,” Charlie said. “Look at me.” She didn’t move. “ _Please_.” Surprised at the hitch, the waver in his voice, she glanced up. They were in her borrowed room, and she sat on her borrowed bed.

Charlie kneeled before her, bare from the waist up except for the pendant around his neck. The black cord drew her attention to his collarbones, where there was a scar. It looked like it’d been broken. His lean, muscular arms were hatched with knife wounds. An old burn scar curled from his back to his flat abdomen, where it met with a long slice, a newer wound than the rest. There was a puckered scar between his ribs, and she knew a stab wound when she saw one. Every scar, except this and the burn, had additional marks from stitching.

In that moment, she saw everything that Charlie had become. The white hair falling in his eyes, the fox ears trained on her, his tight, worried brow, his broadened shoulders, the tension in his sinewy muscles, the scars she couldn’t entirely blame on the symbol around his neck. She let the image burn into her mind, so that she’d have this. At least she’d have this, before he learned the extent of her _damage_.

He spoke softly, slowly, like one might calm a frightened animal. “How are my scars any different than yours?” he asked.

“ _Because_.” She shoved him, grabbing his arm with her mechanical hand. “Through all your scars, you can still _feel_ that.” She stood, driving him further back. He winced as she tightened her grip. “Mathematically,” she growled, her voice low, controlled, “I know _exactly_ how many kilograms of pressure I’m using. _Mathematically_ , I know how hard I can hit something. _Mathematically_ ,” she hissed, dropping his hand emphatically hitting her metal knee, “I know how fast I can run.” She stood and walked to the desk, layered with blueprints and ink pens. She touched the back of the wooden chair. “I can tell when I touch something,” she announced without facing Charlie. This time it was her voice that broke. “But there’s no difference between this,” she moved her hand across the chair, “and this.” She abruptly made a fist and brought it down, splintering the wood upon impact.


	4. Halvaar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr prompt: Halvaar's first time being turned on.

Maybe she shouldn’t have gotten the sensory systems online first. Maybe she should have saved that for last. Because as soon as she started testing, the AI gears caught the stimulation and turned on. As programmed. And with the sensory input and the AI, there came the vocal output, complete with the language programming.

Everything about Halvaar went exactly as programmed. His only flaws where her flaws.

“WAAAAAAAUGH I’M ALL OVER THE TABLE!”

Soldering iron in one hand, Ari smacked her other hand over her welding mask. Maybe she should have been more strict about the way the AI built the personality.

Next on her to-do list was a mute command.

**Author's Note:**

> Next bits, by a different author:  
> http://zenkal.livejournal.com/4616.html  
> http://zenkal.livejournal.com/4416.html


End file.
